


Harmony

by thechaoscryptid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (not outright said but pretty important), Comfort, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Lullabies, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, felix is tired, implied trans pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28475220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/pseuds/thechaoscryptid
Summary: Felix sits on a pew, bathed in moonlight, with Sitri cradled against his chest. Her hand swings to and fro beneath his chin before he catches it and presses his thumb to the center of her palm. Byleth can’t make out what he whispers, but whatever it is, it’s the wrong thing, and Felix’s face crumples along with hers as she wails in earnest. “Please,” he begs. “You love it here, just bequiet.”
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> Byleth: I wish to have an office inside the church for setting purposes  
> Monestary folk: got it boss
> 
> Had another small thought that was nagging at me until I wrote it out so yeet (additional dialogue that didn't make the cut in end notes)
> 
> [Here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvBlXsKuARQ) the song Byleth sings to her

It’s long past sunset when Byleth picks up the sound of the cathedral doors opening, someone slipping in entirely too late. The rest of the world’s asleep— _ should  _ be, at least—and he sighs at the thought that perhaps yet another person is coming to seek guidance. That’s all his days seem to be filled with recently: requests for prayer, requests for favors, requests for more and more and  _ more. _

Footsteps whisper over the stones and echo from the ceiling along with a quiet whimper, and the sounds hang suspended in the humid night like mist over the water. Byleth sighs, then cracks the door to peek through.

Felix sits on a pew, bathed in moonlight, with Sitri cradled against his chest. Her hand swings to and fro beneath his chin before he catches it and presses his thumb to the center of her palm. Byleth can’t make out what he whispers, but whatever it is, it’s the wrong thing, and Felix’s face crumples along with hers as she wails in earnest. “Please,” he begs. “You love it here, just be  _ quiet.” _

“Felix?” Byleth says, loud enough to alert but soft enough not to scare. When Felix glances over, his entire body sags, and Byleth sweeps across the floor to crouch before him. “What’s wrong, love?”

“She won’t sleep,” Felix says. He shifts her to the other shoulder, wincing as she yanks on a stray lock of hair. “I’ve tried everything. She just  _ won’t.” _

Crooking his fingers, Byleth sits and takes their daughter into his arms. Her cries pluck at his heartstrings and when he gently touches her cheek, her breath hitches. For a second, there’s naught but the silence. He holds his breath, letting it out in a measured sigh when she starts in again. “This is a quiet place, darling,” he murmurs. “Listen to me. Look here.”

Sitri sniffles, but as Byleth circles a finger above her head, does begin to quiet. Felix sprawls in the pew next to them with his head in his hands, shoulders rising and falling rapidly before Byleth rests a hand on his arm.

“I can’t even put a baby to sleep,” he says. “I am so... _ tired.”  _

“And now you’re here, instead of resting,” Byleth says. Sitri continues to whimper into his chest as it twists with guilt. It’s not the first late night he’s had since she was born and it likely won’t be the last, but for Felix to come all the way down to the cathedral with her… “I’m sorry.”

Felix shrugs and sniffs once, then looks away. “You’re busy.”

“And you’re struggling.” Byleth leans closer and presses his lips to the curve of Felix’s shoulder, inhales deeply and lets it out in a huff when Sitri grabs for  _ his  _ hair. “Hellion,” he mumbles.

“Well, she couldn’t take after you in  _ every  _ manner,” Felix says. When Byleth glances up, there’s the ghost of a smile dancing across Felix’s lips as his head tips back, eyes shut. “Just keep her quiet for a few minutes, at least.”

“We should go home,” Byleth says. It is, after all, easier to put her down in her cradle rather than on elegantly carved wood, and he’s positive Felix will appreciate a bed more than where they sit now. He splays his hand across the back of Sitri’s head, marveling yet again at how something so small, so  _ soft,  _ has come of their bond. One day he’ll get used to the way her hair’s spun silk against his calluses, but not tonight.

“Stay with me for a bit,” Felix says. He puts a warm hand on Byleth’s thigh and lays his head down near Sitri’s, his fingers lacing with Byleth’s as they watch her eyes begin to close. His thumb wipes away the remainder of tears on her cheeks. “I tried singing to her like you do.”

“Oh no,” Byleth says.

Felix flicks his leg before smoothing the spot over. “Just because I’m not as good—”

“Did the roof come tumbling down?” Byleth says, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his lips from tugging up. He doesn’t manage to quell the flush of affection that comes from looking at Felix’s glare, though, and Felix isn’t fool enough to miss it. 

“It did  _ not,”  _ Felix says, then crosses his arms and sticks his nose in the air. “She just refuses to listen unless it’s you.” His posture softens as he gestures to the ceiling, hands falling back to his lap with a dull  _ plop.  _ “I suppose it figures she’d feel better when she’s here. She has your blood, after all.”

Byleth lays a finger against Sitri’s chest and feels the flush deepen as her fist wraps around it, the guilty twist giving way to a well of fondness so deep he’s positive it’ll never run dry. “Better yet, she’ll be able to grow here with both of us,” he says, words slipping easily from his tongue. “She’ll know an easier life than either of us.”

It’s not until Felix reaches to tip Byleth’s face to his that he realizes he’s been staring blankly at the floor. “Byleth,” he says softly. “You know we’ll make it so, right?”

“We will,” Byleth agrees. “I promised.” He leans forward to rest his temple against Felix’s and kisses him once, then once again when Felix makes a quiet noise of contentment and slumps against him. “Yes?”

“We’re waiting,” Felix says.

“Pray she hasn’t inherited your impatience,” Byleth says. 

“Or your stubbornness,” Felix quips.

“You’re one to talk.” Byleth skims his lips across Felix’s cheek before clearing his throat. His voice dances through the air like the cathedral bells themselves, and though the choristers are long gone, they’re soon enveloped in the lullaby Hilda  _ insisted  _ he learn. Sitri’s lashes flutter under his watchful gaze and when Felix droops harder against him, he smiles around the words.

As the melody resonates through the cathedral, he lifts his gaze to the ceiling like somehow that’ll allow him to see past the veil to where (he hopes) his own mother and father are watching. It’s a parent’s job to see their children into a better world, after all, and here he is with a husband and child of his own.

He’s  _ happy. _

Here, as the last of the notes fade away to nothingness and Felix holds him close, he’s found his home.

**Author's Note:**

> Byleth, singing: little baby, our young lady, noble maiden fair  
> Felix: She's a tyrant, is what she is  
> Byleth: she's _three months old?_  
>  Felix: *stare*  
> Byleth: noble...tyrant? Fair?


End file.
